Dance of the Robes
by LupineMoon
Summary: Post HBP pre DH one shot. Harry contemplates his destiny and hopes he can live up to the wizarding world's expectations. But in the end, he just wants to live up to his own. Song fic one shot


Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, then I would have no trouble paying for college. I don't own Aida either. Lyrics have been changed slightly to fit the story.

**A/N: Thanks to whydoyouneedtoknow (Anne) for beta-ing this for me! For those in the DA, this is based on canon, not DV**

**Dance of the Robe**

By LupineMoon

Harry sighed for the umpteenth time as he sat on his bed, staring out the window. His thoughts turned to the prophecy.

"_Either must die at the hand of the other _

_For neither can live while the other survives"_

It was him, or Voldemort. Harry would either kill or be killed. And he didn't like either prospect. But that wasn't Harry's biggest worry. His biggest worry was the expectations of the wizarding people, the ones on his side. On his shoulders rode the fate of an entire people. And to top it all off, he had a reputation to uphold. His mother had been a brilliant Muggle-born witch, caring, kind and smart. His father, though arrogant at first, had also been brilliant, courageous and loyal. Harry had much to live up to. He was thankful that the wizarding world did not know the whole prophecy. Their expectations now were enough.

It's knowing what they want of me that scares me

It's knowing having followed that I must lead

It's knowing that each person there compares me

To those in my past whom I now succeed

But how can whatever I do for them now

Be enough

Be enough

He could just imagine the people screaming his name, like some singer or some other celebrity. Harry shuddered; he detested the attention he got. They would be crying his name, begging him to be their hero, to save them and their children.

Harry bit back a scream of frustration. Why him? Why couldn't it have been someone else? Why didn't Voldemort pick Neville? But it was pointless to brood over what-ifs. What would come would come, and he would be sure to do his best.

Harry! Harry!

All we ask of you

Is a lifetime of service, wisdom, courage

To ask more would be selfish

But nothing less will do

Harry! Harry!

Harry smiled thinly at the thought of being hero-worshiped. He knew that much of the wizarding world believed him to live a privileged existence. Harry could just imagine their shock if they could see him in Muggle clothes, especially Dudley's outgrown ones that were much too large for him, and their outrage if they knew how he had been treated at the Dursleys while he had lived with them.

He burst out laughing at the image of an angry public pounding on the Dursleys' door, demanding their blood for the mistreatment of the precious "Boy –Who-Lived".

You robe should be golden, your robe should be perfect

Instead of this ragged concoction of thread

But may you be moved by its desperate beauty

To give us new life for we'd rather be dead

Than live in the squalor and shame of the slave

To the dance!

To the dance!

Harry felt like Atlas: the weight of the world on his shoulders. If he did not succeed, and Voldemort killed him, the wizarding world was doomed. Harry was their only hope. And he would spend the rest of his life preparing for this final task.

Harry! Harry!

All we ask of you

All we ask is a lifetime of

Service, wisdom, courage

To ask more would be selfish

But nothing less will do

Harry! Harry!

Harry! Harry!

Harry! Harry! Harry!

He had often wished, since learning of the prophecy, that it had been someone else whom Voldemort had marked; someone else whom the prophecy applied to. Then, he would have been living a normal life with his parents, happy and carefree. But no, his fate had been decided for him that night Professor Trelawney had given her prediction.

There were times when he'd just wanted to give up. But he knew he couldn't; for his sake and theirs. He had scores to settle, deaths to avenge, and he would not rest until he was finished.

I know expectations are wild and almost

Beyond my fulfillment but they won't hear

A word of a doubt or see signs of weakness

My nigh on impossible duty is clear

If I can rekindle my ancestors' dreams

It's enough

It's enough

At least he hoped it would be.

It's enough

Harry!

Harry! Harry!

Harry! Harry! Harry!

No, he would make it so. As long as he did enough for himself, that would be enough for everyone.

It's enough

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah

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